Monster

I've heard him referred to as
"the monster,"
so you'd better stay away.
As much as you're wishing to see him,
he'll twist you
in vicious ways.

It's a plot,
it's a ploy,
it's a lie, you're devoid,
of the things that I left you
and the way that I left.
The footsteps that followed
so careful and delicate,
you were running like you were fast enough
to chase time.

Her hair is slipping through his fingertips
and he smells like wine.
He's older and he loves her,
and she will be alright.
She sounds like she's shaking
when she says she's scared.

It's a plot,
it's a ploy.
It's a lie, you're devoid,
of the knowledge I left you,
but, I haven't yet left.
The footsteps you followed,
careful and delicate,
you were running like you were fast enough
to pass faster than time.

In a room of a house,
in a town in a state,
there are millions of her
all over the place.
Inconsiderately drunk,
in bed with a stranger,
and fucking up
everything you ever gave her.

So take your time,
take advantage of your life.
You can't make this right,
so make it wrong the best way you can.
Give in and give up ,
so you can enjoy and clutch at the sheets
like there's no tomorrow, today.

It's a plot,
it's a ploy.
It's a lie, you're devoid,
of the words that I left you
in the note that I left;
by the stairs you chased me down
like you were fast enough
to chase time.

It will be like the movies,
when you walk in at the end
and his tongue's down her throat,
and you forgot where this ends.
But, you wish you found her
all alone,
and you could go back
to where you call home.

So now she's drunk,
and passing out,
and he is sitting on the couch
staring as you
lead her out.

But for now,
you'll pretend you didn't know,
and you'll pretend
he's not smirking at your back,
with his lips on the rim of a cup filled
with vodka and coke.
Half empty or full,
you know he sure as shit ruined your night.